How Much Do You Love Your Wife?

by Jaz

Desc: Sex Story: How much do you love your girl? Maybe you'd take a bullet for her, but would you take a dick? As twisted as this story is, it is still a love story, a romantic tale of self sacrifice.

Sometimes things happen that can shatter the image you have of who you are. Given the proper motivation, the right incentive any man will give in. It may not be his fault but sometimes, thick, brown, smelly shit just happens.

About 2 months ago it happened to me. It ruined my life. My therapist thought it would help if I wrote it all down. Here is a list of things that John Pressman never thought he would do.

See a Therapist.

Talk about personal feelings.

Cry like a bitch

Seriously consider suicide

Seriously consider divorce

Well... I'm not ready to talk about #6 yet.

I guess I should start at the beginning. I met Susan when we were in college. We were just good friends for years. The first time I saw her I knew I was in trouble. She was so fucking beautiful it was distracting.

I mean it was almost unfair. I completely lost my composure. It was puzzling, how could anyone be that perfect. As we got to know each other I found I really liked her -- as a person. In fact I think I overcompensated, I convinced myself we were just friends, that as pretty as she was somehow I was not interested in that way. It was clearly a defense mechanism. I mean I'm a pretty good looking guy but she was taller, better looking and had an amazing personality. I did not think I had a chance with her so I took the Just Friends route. The thing is Just Friends became BEST Friends. Over the next 4 years we became inseparable. Between phone calls, e-mails, and spending most of our free time together it was incredible. I remember teasing her about her lousy taste in men. Similarly she seemed to absolutely loathe every girl I dated. I think by Sr. year we were starting to figure out why none of our relationships seemed to work out. Every woman I met was held up to Susan's standard and fell woefully short. Blonde hair yes, but out of a bottle. Nice tits, sure but not mouth wateringly perfect like my good pal Susan's. Sweet ass, yeah I guess so but not juicy and firm as Susan's. Personality? Funny? Kind? No, no, no... they just were not good enough. I found out later Susan was comparing the guys she dated to me.

We both were scared about screwing up an amazing friendship so, we waited, and stalled, and hemed, and hawed until... it was too late. We graduated. She moved back home to San Jose, while I took a job in N.Y.

We spent our last night together on campus, visiting our favorite hang outs. As the evening drew to a close I knew I was making a horrible mistake. How could I let her go? Suddenly she took a chance and pulled me into her arms that final night and told me how special I was, how much it would hurt to lose me. We were moving to opposite sides of the country. She demanded that I promise we would always be this close. She fit so snug, so absolutely perfect. This woman belonged against me, pressed into me, nestled with me forever. I knew it. It was a moment of total clarity, a true AHA! Gutless bastard that I was I did not kiss her, I did not tell her that I loved her. I just held her for a long time, made some chicken shit assurances and let her go.

That could have been the end, should have really. Five months went by. I was doing well as a (very) Jr Ad exec in a growing firm. I had helped land a major client who was about to seek representation elsewhere. My boss got most of the credit but the right people noticed. About a month later a SrVP position opened up in our San Francisco office. My boss was offered the job, and asked if I would like to move with him. My new job paid more, I would have my own staff, and the company would help cover my moving expenses. I had always been a New Yorker and liked what I was doing. I was fresh out of school and still learning the ropes. I thought it would be years before I could hope to land this kind of job. Was I ready? I took the night to think it over. I went home, made dinner fired up my computer and soon heard a familiar voice say, "You've got mail". Mixed in with the inevitable AOL spam, was a letter from Susan.

"John it's been weeks since we talked, or even e-mailed, and I wanted to catch up. I'd hate to think we would ever become one of those friends who were close in college and don't see again until our 10 year reunion. You mean too much to me. God I miss you so much! It seems strange not being able to come over and just hang out or watch tv together. I never realized how hard it would be. I know your busy with work and stuff, and I guess I am too but... John I hope we can find a way to stay in touch. Geez I know I sound like a big pile of feminine girly-mush. I should probably cancel this message right now but... I'm going to hit send before I wimp out. Right... NOW!!"

I know it sounds dorky but I read her message a dozen times that night Susan was reaching out to me, (again) and we both knew it. I did not respond to her, but I told my boss the next day that I wanted the San Francisco job. That was Wed. By Friday I was in Sunny CA. Friday afternoon I was at Susan's apartment, ringing her bell trying not to piss my pants. The look on her face when she opened the door was priceless. Tears welled up in her eyes and her hands were trembling.

"Hey Suze, got your e-mail. Thought I'd stop by for a visit", I said as we laughed, and then hugged each other hard.

This time I did not stop there. I gave her the kiss that I should have that last night in college. The kiss that I had wanted to give since I met her over 4 years ago.

And it was as simple as that.

We both knew. That first kiss was our declaration of love. Our commitment to love and protect each other. I felt like shouting to the world "Susan is mine! She belongs to me, and I love her!" I felt like I had wasted years already. I had almost lost her forever when I moved to New York. I was tired of going slow with her. We dated heavily for a month or so, and then I asked her to move in with me. She said yes. But when she did I made a confession.

"Susan, you make me so happy thanks for moving in with me, I love you. I love everything about you except... well except your last name. I think Susan Pressman would sound a lot better. I don't want to just live with you. I want to marry you. I want to be your husband, partner, lover, best friend -- I want it all. I want to build a life with you, I want to be your children's father, I want to put my ring on your finger and let everyone know that you are my property, and that I am your slave. Susan, please baby will you marry me?" I said as I dropped to one knee and put my life in her hands.

"Yes! Yes! YES!!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs before dropping to her knees and falling into my arms, laughing, crying, giggling like a crazy person.

We were married 2 months later and everything seemed to be going our way. Within 4 months my boss suffered a severe heart attack and to everyone's surprise (especially my own) named me his successor. The work was hard and I had to put in a lot of long hours. Monday thru Thursday I averaged 10 hour days. But Friday at five until Monday morning at 8 belonged to the woman I loved. We would often spend the whole weekend in bed. She was the single most important thing in the world to me and she knew it. I did regret not giving her a real honeymoon. I wanted a month alone with my Susan. It was almost 3 years before I could swing it but finally I found the time. I told her he could go anywhere she wanted,

Hawaii, Paris, no restrictions. My goofy lover said she wanted to drive cross country with me. The most romantic thing she could think of would be to have me alone in a car for 8 hours a day, to spend every moment with the man she loved. Damn, I gotta tell you that does wonders for a guy's ego. Her only restriction was that I could not bring my cell phone. She allowed me to check e-mail every other day. We planned to take our time, see the sights. We mapped out a route that took us to several local attractions, and major cities. The first week was amazing.

We visited Hollywood, took in the Grand Canyon, and gambled in Las Vegas (I won $4,000). We were making good time to Houston when our rental car broke down in the middle of nowhere. It would have been nice to have a cell phone (Real fucking nice). Instead I got out and did my best impression of a man who had a clue as to what might be wrong. I loosened caps and jiggled wires, before proclaiming that the car was "broken". We decided to walk back to the rest area that we had passed about 2 miles back. The sun was setting and the handful of cars who had passed refused to stop. It took about a half hour to reach the rest stop. Susan went to the ladies room to freshen up, and I went to the phone to call AAA.

There were a couple of cars and 3 or 4 motor cycles in the area. I was on the phone for about 5 minutes when I heard a woman say in a loud voice: "No! let me pass, leave me alone". I knew that voice, it was my wife's! I put down the phone and ran around the corner to the ladies room. Three men and one young girl had formed a circle around Susan. She looked terrified. I knew I could not take on 3 men by myself and Susan did not seem to be in immediate danger so I ran back to see if I could get some help.

All the cars were gone. Only the motor cycles remained. My hands were shaking as I dialed 911.

"Police is this an emergency... yes sir calm down, where are you... ok stay right there, the nearest car is about 20 minutes away."